Meridian
by Frannie1
Summary: The Chamber of Secrets seen through the eyes of Fred Weasley. Completed work.
1. Chapter I

"Fred, are you listening to me?" 

Fred Weasley lifted his head from the table and looked into the crazy-eyed face of Oliver Wood. "Yes, Oliver, I'm listening." 

"Right, I want you two to keep those bludgers away from our seeker," the Gryffindor Quidditch team's captain and keeper said. "Remember, Harry's the important one." He rubbed his hands together, smiling. 

"Oh, and we're not?" Angelina Johnson, a chaser on the team, snapped. "We do score the goals." 

Oliver held up his hands in defense. "Oh, no, not to say the chasers aren't important! Of course, you're all vital to the team. But if we didn't have Harry, here, we'd never catch the snitch." He tousled the second year's hair. 

Angelina rolled her eyes. "All right, Oliver, I'll let it slide this time. Next time you won't be so lucky." She rose from the table. "I have to get to class. Bye." 

"Wait!" Oliver exclaimed. "I haven't finished explaining my strategy!" 

"Oliver." She gave him a serious look, placing her hands on her hips. "I have to go. I don't want to be late for Potions." 

"Fine! Go!" Oliver shouted after her. "But when we lose you'll know who to blame!" 

The remaining members of the team listened to their captain rant on about the importance of discussing strategy and tactics before a game for ten minutes. Soon only two minutes were left until the first class of the day. Each went their separate ways. Fred and his twin, George, headed down to the dungeons for Potions. 

There was something eerie about the dungeons, besides the constant presence of the Slytherin House ghost, the Bloody Baron. They were dark and damp, and quite spooky, really. Fred could understand why Snape loved the dungeons and chose to teach his class in them. The professor was a lot like a reptile, except for his pale, sallow skin. He was definitely cold-blooded and cruel. He had also taken a liking to Harry Potter, a seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Or rather, he liked picking on Harry, and using him as an excuse to take away points from Gryffindor. 

It wasn't that he disliked Potions; it was Severus Snape, the Potions master that he didn't care for. Snape didn't enjoy Fred's company either, or that of George's. Of course, that might have had something to do with their constant pranks. 

"Good morning, Mr. Weasley." 

Fred looked up. Snape was standing outside the classroom with his arms crossed, hidden under billowing, black sleeves. "Oh, good morning, Professor. I hope your morning has been pleasant so far." 

"Yes, how was your breakfast? The eggs were delicious, weren't they?" George asked sweetly, walking into the classroom. 

Fred snickered, following his brother inside. Without the professor knowing, they had slipped a large amount of chili powder into Snape's breakfast plate. He took his seat next to Angelina, and soon after, the lesson began. 

The entire class was very boring. Snape had them all take notes on the five deadliest potions that could be concocted. Fred found it hard to concentrate on that, however. He usually didn't worry about Quidditch matches, but for some reason, he was worried about this one. Maybe he felt pressured to win. After all, Oliver only had two years left at Hogwarts, being a sixth year, and the only thing the bloke strived for was to win the Quidditch Cup. They were up against Slytherin on Saturday, the first game of the season. But before Fred could think on it anymore, Snape's sharp voice interrupted his thoughts. 

"Mr. Weasley, please stop daydreaming. This classroom is for learning, not sleeping." 

"My sincerest apologies, Professor," George said suddenly, sending a wink in his brother's direction. "I was just thinking about how Angelina would look in a swimming suit." 

Angelina rolled her eyes and flushed slightly, though she knew George was only joking. 

Snape's upper lip curled. "Not you," he sneered, "the other one." 

"After four years, you still don't know my name?" Fred questioned, smirking. 

"Professor, does Slytherin lose points when you are unable to remember a student's name?" George asked, without the hint of a smile on his face. 

The Gryffindors and most of the Hufflepuffs burst out laughing. 

"Very well." When it seemed his eyes couldn't narrow any further and his face couldn't become any sourer, it did. "Ten points each will be taken from Gryffindor. And detention for both of you." 

Angelina, who was sitting beside Fred, hit his shoulder lightly. "Nice going." 

Fred didn't think much of it. He had gotten detention hundreds of times, and he and his brother had been responsible for most of Gryffindor's lost points. 

The rest of Snape's lesson went along smoothly. A Hufflepuff girl had answered a question correctly and was awarded twenty-five points. However, when Angelina correctly answered a question, Snape gave no points to Gryffindor. This wasn't a normal occurrence. Usually Snape was very civil toward the third years' class. It was only when Fred or George made a comment that his anger flared up again. 

When they were finally let out, the class filed out into the damp corridor. Gryffindors had History of Magic next, another boring class. Fortunately for Fred, there was no pop-quiz –though even that would have been more exciting than the usual lesson. The entire period was spent studying one of the more bloody battles in Wizarding history. 

Before he knew it, however, Fred was walking back to his common room, hoping Wood wasn't going to force another lecture on him. But sure enough, when he stepped through the portrait hole, the first thing he saw was Wood pacing back and forth in front of the fire. Fred tried to sneak past him, up to his dormitory, but was defeated by a squeaky step on the stairs. 

Wood's head snapped up. "Fred, I've been waiting for you. I think we can get in another practice before dinner. Hope you got enough to eat at lunch because you may have to forfeit the next meal." 

Fred rolled his eyes. "Skip dinner? Aren't you the one who's always saying we need to eat to keep up our strength?" He slumped down into a fluffy, burgundy-colored armchair. 

Oliver thought a moment before replying, "Well, yes, but that's the meal before a match. You've still got tomorrow's meals." 

"Technically, tonight's supper is before the game," Fred pointed out. 

"You don't seem to understand the importance of this game! Of –of every game!" Oliver began pacing again, shaking his head in frustration. 

"Oliver, you have pulled us out of bed at the crack of dawn every Saturday since we got here!" Fred shouted, becoming angry himself. "That's nearly two straight months of being tired and wet, since most of the time, we were out in a storm!" He sighed. "Look, I want to enjoy the Halloween feast tonight, and get some rest before you wake me up at four in the morning tomorrow." 

Oliver frowned, but nodded. "You're probably right. Maybe I should just relax. I know we're a good team. And we can beat the Slytherins even if we don't all have Nimbus Two Thousand and One broomsticks." 

Fred smiled. "That's the spirit, Captain!" He proceeded to walk up to the dormitory, leaving Oliver behind. 

The Keeper sighed, and collapsed onto an armchair. "We're going to lose!" he wailed. 

~ 

"Where's Harry?" Wood asked worriedly. "He better not be sick. Not right before the match. I'd better find him –" 

"Oliver!" Katie Bell, another Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, exclaimed. "I'm sure he's fine. He's probably just hanging out with his friends." 

"Well, I'm his friend," Oliver said, looking a little gloomy. 

"I meant his other friends," she clarified. "Look, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger aren't here either." She glanced at the row of teachers in the front of the hall, where a line of skeletons, each bearing a top hat and a cane, were dancing. "You know, those dancing skeletons really aren't what I expected them to be." 

"What did you expect them to be?" George Weasley questioned from his seat on her right. 

She smiled. "Well, better, I suppose." 

On the other side of the table, the team's captain was still raving on. "I'd expect them not to be here, but Harry. He should know better. We could have gone over the tactics again!" 

"Oliver, I don't think you understand the word 'enjoy', as in, I wanted to enjoy the Halloween feast," Fred said through gritted teeth. "Just eat your food, all right?" He bit into a pumpkin pasty and caught his twin's eye. They had a bit of a surprise for everyone tonight. 

As the students continued to eat, the sky outside darkened. When the sun had fully set, all at once, the pumpkins lit up. And all at once, several of the pumpkins exploded, sending huge chunks of orange vegetable onto everyone's heads. The pumpkins had been very large that year, thanks to Hagrid, the gamekeeper at Hogwarts. The Great Hall erupted with screaming and laughter, as most everyone picked seeds and pumpkin out of their hair. 

Fred and George both stifled their own laughter, because they had caused it to happen. Before the pumpkins had been set into place, they had placed Filibuster fireworks in them. 

Fred looked at Angelina, as she pulled a rather large chunk out of her soup, and smiled. Surprisingly, she smiled back and laughed. "Nice going, Fred," she said again, though this time her tone was quite different. 

~ 

"Enjoy myself? How am I supposed to enjoy myself with exploding fruit all around me?" Oliver exclaimed as they headed back to the common room. 

"Actually, it's a vegetable," Fred said quietly. 

"Am I to understand you are accusing us, George Weasley and my brother Fred, angels on earth, of this terrible crime?" Oliver nodded, crossing his arms. "Well, you're wrong, sir. You should stop talking to us and seek out the real criminal." 

"And when you find him or her," Fred began, "you can whack 'em with your broomstick." He and George laughed. 

"What's going on up there?" Angelina asked, pointing to a large gathering of people at the end of the corridor. 

"I expect they've caught the criminal," George replied, not even cracking a smile. 

The hallway suddenly became very quiet and someone shouted, "Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!" 

Angelina bristled. "It's that Draco Malfoy again," she hissed. "Slytherin Seeker." 

Oliver nodded to her. "I remember." 

"Get outta my way!" a gruff, unpleasant-looking man growled. He pushed Wood out of the way, then made his way through the rest of the crowd. 

Fred heard the unpleasant man, who was actually Argus Filch, Hogwarts' caretaker, yelling. Then the headmaster and several other teachers rushed past. 

Fred pushed through the crowd just in time to see his younger brother Ron, Harry, and Hermione disappear around a corner. He looked up and noticed the writing on the wall. 

Next chapter 


	2. Chapter II

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened…" Fred repeated. "What does that mean?" 

George pulled on a sweater. "I don't know. After practice we'll go down to the library and get a copy of Hogwarts, A History. All right? Hey, have you talked to Ron? I didn't see him come back last night." 

"I haven't seen him." Fred grabbed his broomstick. "C'mon, let's go. Wood'll freak out if we're late." 

Strangely, the twins were the first ones to the pitch that foggy morning. Well, except for Oliver, he was there. Wood was bent over a diagram of a Quidditch field, which he'd shown them many times before, and was chewing on the end of his quill. "No, no, that's not right," he mumbled to himself. 

"What's not right?" came another voice. Fred hadn't noticed, but Harry was also there, nearly asleep, his faced pressed against the end of his broom. 

"No, don't provoke him, Harry!" George hissed. 

Wood, apparently, hadn't heard either of them, however. He scribbled out a few things, then redrew them in different places, and sat up, smiling as if he was proud of something. He glanced up at Fred and George, for the first time noticing their presence. "Oh, Weasleys, good morning. Perfect day for playing Quidditch." He thought a moment, tapping the quill against his face. "Where are my Chasers?" 

"I saw Katie. But I think she went for a bite to eat," Fred said. His stomach rumbled and he wished he had done the same thing. 

"A bite to eat?!" Oliver exclaimed, that same crazy gleam back in his eyes. "I told everyone to be here at five sharp. It's now…look! It's five fifteen!" 

At that moment, Katie, Angelina, and Alicia Spinnet entered the room. "Sorry we're late, Oliver," Katie apologized. "I figured you were going to work us extra hard today, and if that was the case, I needed to eat something beforehand." 

Fred stomach growled again and Angelina looked to him. "Oh, here, I brought you two something." She handed each of them an apple. 

"You're a saint, Angie, a saint," Fred said, biting into the juicy, red apple. Just as he finished the scrumptious piece of fruit, Oliver stood up and ordered them all out onto the field. 

He let out the Bludgers for the twins to play with, the Snitch for Harry, and handed the Quaffle to Alicia. He had a few new moves for the Chasers to try out. Wood, of course, flew up to guard the goal posts. 

"It really doesn't make sense to practice when you're a Beater," Fred said before shooting off to whack a Bludger away from Katie, who was carrying the Quaffle. 

Harry nodded and zoomed up higher to look for the Snitch. "Or a Seeker," he called when Fred came flying back across the field. 

"Oh, no, Harry, you must exercise your eyes," Fred said sarcastically. 

"Sounds like something Oliver would say," Harry pointed out. "Oh." He broke into a dive. 

Fred flew around the field a little, looking for an attacking Bludger. None were to be seen. One had been about to run into Harry, but the Seeker ducked and it went on its way. Then he spotted one down by the Chasers again and quickly flew to stop it. 

The practice went on like this for another two hours, before they were called down to the ground where Wood was waiting. He gave another speech about them all being the best Quidditch team in the school and how they had the potential to win, if they'd all set their minds to it ("How could we set our minds to anything else with you around, Oliver?" George said). And then he let them leave, saying he needed to speak to Harry before the second-year left. 

Fred looked back, feeling sorry for Harry. "Poor kid. Wood won't leave him alone. I think he's interrogating him on why he wasn't at the Halloween feast." 

George nodded. "Look, it's Ron." He pointed to a tall, gangly boy running down the hill to the pitch they were walking away from. "Probably wondering where Harry is." 

The boy met up with them and asked, clearly out of breath, "Where's Harry?" 

Fred smiled. "He's having a talk with Wood." Ron made to run again, but Fred stopped him. "I wouldn't go in there if I were you. You know how testy Wood gets right before a match. Especially when it's against Slytherin." 

Ron frowned. "Oh." 

"By the way," George began, "where were you last night? We didn't see you at the feast." 

Their little brother made a face of disgust. "Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party," he answered. At the twins' looks of confusion and amusement, he said, "Believe me, you don't want to know." 

"What do you make of that Chamber of Secrets thing?" Fred asked, leaning on his broomstick. 

"Uh. I dunno," Ron said quickly. "Well, I'd better get Harry. Er, see you at lunch!" He ran off toward the pitch. 

Fred gave George a puzzled look. "That was strange." 

"I'm sure it's nothing," George assured him. "C'mon, they're waiting for us." 

Fred look up ahead and saw the three Chasers standing still, staring at them. He and George trudged up the hill to meet them, and they walked back to Gryffindor Tower together. 

~ 

"Oy, Hermione!" George called. The bushy-haired second-year was sitting by the fireplace working on an essay. 

She looked up. "What?" 

"Since you're Ron's best friend, you ought to know what his problem is." George sat down beside her. "He's been acting strange since Halloween." 

She gave him a confused look. "Strange?" Her tone almost seemed nervous. "How do you mean, strange? He's been acting normal enough to me." 

George and Fred exchanged suspicious glances. "Well, he keeps running off, when we try to talk to him," Fred explained. "You know, makes his sentences real short and quick." 

"Oh. Well, I haven't noticed that. Maybe he ate a bad toenail –I mean turnip." She picked up her things quickly. "Well, I'd better get going. I want to get a good seat for the match." She hurried out of the common room. 

"Right…" George picked up his broomstick from the couch and said, "We'd better go." 

~ 

When the whole team had changed into their Quidditch robes and had gathered in the changing room, Wood began his pep talk, though the Weasleys interrupted him once or twice. Naturally, he placed a lot of pressure on Harry, saying, "Get to that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying, Harry, because we've got to win today, we've got to." 

"So no pressure, Harry," Fred said, noticing the Seeker gulping. 

Soon the game had begun. George immediately had to come to Harry's rescue, when a Bludger came soaring at him. Strangely, though, after George had hit it, it changed directions in mid-air, coming right back at Harry. 

Fred hovered at the other end of the field and swung at the Bludger still seeking Harry. "Someone's – tampered – with – this – Bludger –" He stared helplessly at his brother. 

George signaled to Wood for a time out and they all landed on the ground. "What's going on?" the captain cried. The twins explained the Bludger would not leave Harry alone. 

"Listen," Harry said, interrupting them. Boldly, he told Fred and George to let him deal with the rogue Bludger on his own. 

"Don't be thick," Fred said, pushing a clump of sopping wet hair out of his face. "That thing'll take your head off." 

Alicia tried to reason with Wood, but it was to no avail. Harry had put his foot down, and he didn't want to be the cause of another loss. 

"This is all your fault," George said angrily, glaring at Wood. " 'Get the Snitch or die trying,' what a stupid thing to tell him –" 

At that point Madam Hooch came up to them. Wood told her that they were ready to resume the game. He turned to the twins and said, "Fred, George, you heard Harry – leave him alone and let him deal with the Bludger on his own." 

The twins grumbled and the game began again. Fred still hit the Bludger away from Harry whenever he could, however. Not ten minutes later, though, the whistle blew signaling the end of the game. Gryffindor had won. Harry, however, didn't come out of the game as well as everyone else. The Bludger had hit his arm, shattering the bones inside it. 

"Well, I hope Oliver's happy," Fred grunted, as he and George wrestled the Bludger into a box. "Poor Harry's got a broken arm now." Once they had finished, they made their way to the rest of the team. 

Alicia Spinnet was waving her hands around and shouting. "I can't believe you let that happen, Oliver," Alicia was yelling. "All to win one stupid match!" 

Oliver opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. 

"This is unforgivable!" she cried, stamping her foot and splashing the whole team with mud. 

"Alicia, calm down!" George grabbed her shoulders from behind. She whipped around to face him. "Look, I don't agree with Wood's decision either, but you all heard Harry. He wanted us to leave him alone." He looked at Wood. 

The Keeper sighed. "Let's go up to the hospital wing to see how he's doing," he said, shouldering his broomstick. He smiled. Even though he felt sorry for Harry, he was still ecstatic about winning the first game of the season. 

When they entered the castle, Fred and George said they needed to pick some things up and disappeared down a corridor. They snuck into the kitchens through the portrait hole behind the painting of the fruit bowl and emerged laden with several bottles of pumpkin juice and many cakes and candies. 

The twins met up with the rest of the team just outside the infirmary. 

Harry certainly looked surprised, and probably grateful for them as the team walked into the room, robes drenched and muddy. 

George went to Harry's side and said, "Unbelievable flying, Harry. I've just seen Marcus Flint yelling at Malfoy. Something about having the Snitch on top of his head and not noticing. Malfoy didn't seem too happy." 

Fred chuckled. "We brought food and drink." 

"For what?" Harry questioned. 

Fred shook his head and repeated, "For what. For the party, you nit!" 

"Party?!" Madam Pomfrey, the school's head nurse, burst into the room. "Out! Out! Everybody out! This boy needs his rest!" She shooed them all out of the room and slammed the door shut. 

Fred sighed and wiped some of the water of his face. It didn't do him any good, though, unless his plan was to smear mud all over his forehead and cheeks. 

Angelina giggled. Her normally frizzy hair was plastered to the side of her face. "Look at you," she simply said. 

"What?" He looked up and down at his robes. 

By this time the rest of the team had disappeared down the corridor. She stepped closer and grabbed the sleeve of her Quidditch robes. She tried to wipe the mud from his face but only made it worse. Laughing, she stepped back. "Much better." 

He pushed her away playfully. "Thanks." 

George poked his head out from around a corner. "Hey, lovebirds!" he called. "We're getting lunch to celebrate our win." 

Angelina smiled. "We're coming." She gave Fred a light push and they followed George to the Great Hall. 

~ 

A drop of dirty rainwater splashed into Fred's pumpkin juice. "I'm thinking we should have changed first." He pushed the goblet away. 

Wood raised his goblet. "To winning!" After Alicia jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow, he said again, "I mean, to Harry! And to winning!" 

George pounded the table with his fist. "Here, here!" 

They all drank from their goblets and in Fred's case, some of the juice dribbled down his chin. Soon the whole table had erupted in laughter, attracting the attention of the Slytherin Quidditch team. 

The captain of the team, Marcus Flint, who Fred had associated with a horse on more than one occasion, stepped up to them. "So, looks like you beat us." 

Oliver puffed out his chest in an important sort of way. "Looks like we did." He stood up; his eyes level with Flint's. "You should probably book the field to train a replacement for that pathetic excuse of a Seeker you've got." Flint sneered as Oliver continued. "Even with your Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones, you still can't beat us." 

"I guess speed isn't everything," Fred added. 

"Well, we'll see about that," Flint snarled. He turned around and led his team away from the table and out of the hall. 

Angelina smiled. "I didn't see that Malfoy with him. I wonder where he is." 

"Probably bawling in his dormitory," George said, snickering. He gulped down the rest of his juice. "But that's what happens when you let Quidditch become personal. He was so busy poking fun at Harry, he didn't see the thing hovering above his shoulder!" 

"Wood's a perfect example of this," Fred said grinning. "Quidditch is his life. You've all seen him after losing a match –not a pretty sight, is it? No. It's the same thing." He chuckled, remembering the final match of his first year on the team. They were beaten so badly, that Oliver had threatened to kill himself that afternoon. He turned back to his food but was interrupted by Ron, as the second-year plopped down next to him, sighing. "What's wrong with you?" 

"Oh, nothing," Ron said. "I wonder when Harry will be out of there." 

Fred shrugged. "He does have to re-grow all of the bones in his arm you know. But he'll probably be out by tomorrow." 

"He'd better be, anyway," George said, side glancing at Wood. "Oliver would have a fit if he wasn't." 

"You've got practice again tomorrow?" Ron asked, intrigued. 

"Knowing Oliver, most likely." Fred eyed his brother suspiciously. "Why do you care?" 

"I dunno." He began eating and ignored his brothers for the rest of the meal. In less than ten minutes, the twelve-year-old was gone. 

"I wonder where he's gone," George said to his twin. 


	3. Chapter III

Fred fought to keep his eyes open. He was up late working on an essay for Transfigurations. It is more efficient to…to turn pesky insects into useful household items than to kill them… He couldn't stay awake any longer. With his head hung, he fell asleep, starting to snore immediately. 

The creaking and slamming of the portrait woke him from his much needed nap. His head snapped up and he saw an older boy with the same flaming red hair as his own. 

"Ron," he grumbled. "Of all places, in a girl's toilet! What am I going to do with him?" 

"Ron was in a girl's toilet?" Fred asked. 

The sixth-year jumped and upon realizing whom it was, said, "Yes. It seems he's taking after you and George." 

Fred smiled. "I always knew he would." He thought a moment, remembering he still had that essay to write. "Hey, Percy. Why is knowing how to transfigure things better than not knowing?" 

Percy gave him a stern look. "I can't do your essays for you, Fred. You have to do them on your own." He started up the stairs. "Well, goodnight." 

"I can't wait to light a firework under his pillow," Fred said, shaking his head. He rolled up the parchment, grabbed his quill and ink, and stalked up to his dormitory. 

"Fred…" 

He grumbled and turned onto his side, trying to get away from the voice in his ear. 

"Fred...wakey, wakey. Time to get up…" 

He slowly opened his eyes. George's beaming face was hovering above him. "Go away…" Fred managed, his voice hoarse. He waved a hand at his brother and pulled the blanket over his face. 

He heard George padding away, assuming he had given up. Suddenly the covers were stripped from his bed. 

"Hey," Fred said weakly, staring after his brother. 

"Get up!" called George. 

Fred rolled off the bed, amazingly able to land on his feet. The room was empty. Everyone was gone except for him. Quickly, he pulled on a pair of pants and a shirt. Slowly, he dragged his feet out of the tower and down to the Great Hall. 

He took a seat next to Angelina, who looked wide-awake. "Morning," she said brightly. "Have a biscuit." She dumped a few onto his plate. 

Fred grunted and started buttering one. Two bites later, the biscuit was gone. The process was repeated until his plate was completely empty. 

"You slept in," she commented, sipping her orange juice. 

"I was tired," he replied. George came and sat down beside him. "Why did you wake me up?" he snapped. 

George looked taken aback with Fred's sudden burst of anger. "It's nine o'clock. I think Wood's going to make us practice, anyway. Said so last night." 

Fred rubbed his eyes. "You should've let me sleep." 

"Sorry," George apologized. He looked up and pointed toward the doors. "Harry's coming." Once the boy arrived at the table, George stood up and said loudly, "Make room for the Heir of Slytherin! You'd better move," he said to a few Ravenclaw first-years lurking nearby. "You wouldn't want to make the Heir angry, or he might sick his snake minions on you." 

Harry smiled, watching the girls run off. "Thanks, George. I'm glad you think it's a ridiculous idea." 

"Of course it's ridiculous!" Fred exclaimed, clapping a hand on Harry's shoulder. After his brother's outburst, he'd woken up a bit. "I've never heard anything so stupid!" 

"You shouldn't be saying things like that!" said Hermione Granger, who had just sat down. 

"Why not?" George asked. "It's too idiotic not to make fun of. Look at them, going out of their way to avoid Harry, not making eye contact. I think it's funny what people will believe." 

Hermione scowled. "Where's Ron?" 

"Percy's yelling at him," Fred answered. 

"Why?" Harry and Hermione inquired simultaneously. 

Fred finished his orange juice. "He caught him by the girls' bathroom again." 

Hermione glanced nervously at Harry. "Odd. I wonder why he'd be in a girls' bathroom," she said. Fred thought it sounded very unconvincing. 

"You wouldn't have any idea, would you?" he questioned. 

"Of course not," she answered quickly, and then immersed herself in a conversation with Harry. 

"They're up to something," Fred said quietly to his twin. 

George rolled his eyes. "Oh, I got Hogwarts, A History from the library. There was a waiting list, you know. Bloody long one, at that." 

They finished their breakfasts quickly and went up to Gryffindor Tower. Ron was sitting in the common room measuring his parchment. An essay for Professor Binns, Fred deduced. 

When they reached their dormitory, George reached under his bed and pulled out the giant book. He scanned through the pages, reading only the most important bits. "It talks about the four founders of the school: Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Helga Hufflepuff. We know all about them, though. Ah…it says they kept getting into arguments with Slytherin because he only wanted pureblood wizards to be let in… Finally, I guess, Slytherin left. According to the legend, Salazar Slytherin built a hidden chamber in the castle, which the others knew nothing of. He sealed the chamber so that no one would be able to open it until his true heir entered the school. Only the heir would be able to break the seal of the Chamber of Secrets, unleashing the horrors within. He could then use it to purge the school of all unworthy of studying magic. That's all it says." He shut the book. 

Fred shuddered. "Kind of creepy, isn't it?" 

"Professor Binns told us about that in class," came a voice from the door. 

Frightened, the twins jumped. George fell off the bed and landed on the other side. 

"Ron, you prat!" Fred said, breathing heavily. "Why'd you sneak up on us like that?!" 

"Scared us to death, you did," said George, his head popping up from behind the bed. 

"Sorry," Ron said, shrugging. "I was only listening." 

"Well, don't," Fred snapped. He sighed and waved his little brother over. "You're up to something, I know it." 

"I'm not up to anything," Ron denied. 

"Sort of how you weren't up to anything last year?" George asked skeptically. 

Ron scowled and left the room. 

"He is. Great. We'll never be able to stop him either." Fred ran a hand through his hair. "I hope he doesn't go and get himself Petrified like that Colin Creevey. Weird, though, wasn't it?" 

George nodded, saying nothing. 


	4. Chapter IV

"It's happened again," Angelina said upon seeing Fred alone in the common room. 

"What has?" he asked, looking up from the parchment in his lap. 

"Another attack. Two more people were Petrified." She sat down next to him, concern in her eyes. 

"Who this time?" 

"A Hufflepuff second-year, Justin Finch-Fletchly, and Nearly Headless Nick." She didn't say any more, just sat there, staring into the fire and biting her lip. 

"Angelina, you're perfectly safe, you know that," he said, trying to comfort her. "Besides, Professor Sprout said the Mandrakes are coming along well." 

She didn't look up at him. "Even ghosts aren't safe, Fred. Aren't you even worried?" He shrugged. "This isn't a joke, Weasley. Someone could get killed. Did you ever think of that?" She was angry with him now. 

"Of course I did," he replied. "I'm just…not worried, that's all." 

She stood up abruptly. "Well, that's no surprise. Everything's a joke to you and George. Everything is always so funny." She stomped to the stairs, then stopped and turned back to him. "You know, Fred, pretty soon you're going to realize that life isn't some big gag." 

He tried to speak, but she was already on her way up the steps. He sighed and slumped back against the couch, trying desperately to finish his assignment for Double Potions. But try as he might, he couldn't bring himself to write another word. So, he gathered his things and went up to his dormitory to get ready for bed. 

He pulled on his pajamas and climbed into the four-poster bed. He shut his eyes and attempted to fall asleep. 

Soon the door creaked open and George and Lee Jordan, a friend of theirs, entered. They were talking loudly about some prank they had played on Oliver Wood, but they stopped when the saw Fred. 

He peered up and them and said in an annoyed tone, "Some of us are trying to sleep." 

"Sorry," they said. 

George jumped into the bed next to his twin. "Last day before the Christmas break." 

"Yeah, but I'm sure Snape will manage to give us loads of homework," Lee Jordan said from his bed on the opposite side of the room. 

Fred turned onto his side and said faintly, "Yeah…" He paused. "D'you think Angelina's staying?" 

"Why?" George inquired, narrowing his eyes. "You two looking for some privacy?" 

Fred rolled his eyes. "No. She's mad at me." 

"Again?" Lee and George asked together. 

Fred glared at them for a moment. "I want to patch things up before she leaves," he explained. 

"Well, one day doesn't give you much time," George scoffed. 

"Why's she mad at you?" Lee asked after a brief period of silence. 

Fred sighed. "I'm not really sure. She says I don't take things seriously. That I think everything's a joke." 

"But you do," said George. 

Fred looked at him in surprise. "So do you." 

"Ah, but Angelina isn't angry with me," George said, smiling. "She's angry with you." 

Fred grunted and turned away from him. "I'm going to bed now, so leave me alone." 

"Lee, he's frustrated with us," came George's voice. "You know how he gets, he might attack us." 

"Shut up." 

~ 

"Remember, I want you practicing every day!" Oliver Wood had his head stuck out the window of the Hogwarts Express and was shouting at the twins. "And no ten minutes of racing with Harry, I want two to three-hour sessions!" 

"Yes, Oliver!" George yelled. 

"You'd better get your head inside the train!" Fred called. "We wouldn't want a tree coming and knocking it off! Who would force us to practice Quidditch more hours than we get to sleep?" 

Wood glowered at him. "Just make sure you practice!" He retreated back inside the cabin. 

"I thought he'd never leave," George said. "Look, it's Angelina." He looked to his twin. "I assume you've worked things out." 

Fred gave his brother a stern look. "She's been avoiding me for two days." He gave her a weak smile as she approached. 

She didn't return it. "See you in a few weeks, George." 

"Yeah, bye." 

"Hey, Angelina." Fred caught her arm as she started toward the train. 

"What?" she asked sharply. He couldn't find the words to say anything. "Oh, Fred, just forget it." She smiled slightly. "I've been too hard on you. I'm sorry for that. But let's just forget we even had that conversation. It never happened, all right?" 

Fred nodded. "Sure." He pulled a small candy out of his pocket wrapped in gold foil. "Want a Canary Cream?" 

She pushed his hand away. "No thanks. I know better than to take anything you'd offer me. Especially if it's edible." 

He laughed and she climbed up the steps into the cabin. 

"C'mon, let's race around the pitch," George said, pulling Fred away from the train. 


	5. Chapter V

Fred peered around the corner. No Snape. He was in the cold dungeons, lurking near Professor Snape's classroom. Quickly, he scrambled into the room. After checking to see if anyone was coming, he grabbed several liquid and solid ingredients and poured them into a cauldron. Lastly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black round thing and added it to the cauldron. Muttering the incantation, he lit a fire beneath it. Stuffing his wand into his pocket, he hurried out of the room. 

Checking often for any teachers, he waited at the end of the corridor. As he had hoped, thick black smoke began pouring out of the classroom. 

Fred grinned evilly and started down the corridor, unfortunately running into the very teacher he had hoped not to. 

"Mr. Weasley," came his oily voice, "what would a fourth-year Gryffindor be doing down in the dungeons on his Christmas holidays?" 

"Oh, just taking a walk, Professor." He quickly glanced at his watch. "Well, I'd better be going. Got to get to the library to start working on that essay you assigned." He smiled and walked quickly past Snape. Once he was out of sight, he bolted down the corridor. Faintly, he could hear a deep, bellowing voice, and he had a feeling that it was bellowing his name. Knowing he would soon get detention, Fred ran off toward his common room. 

By the time he reached Gryffindor Tower, however, Professor McGonagall was already waiting for him. Her arms were crossed and she wore a very sour expression on her face. "Come with me, Mr. Weasley." 

Out of breath, Fred followed her to her office. "When?" he asked. 

"Tomorrow morning and every morning for the next two weeks at six o'clock," she answered, anger in her tone. Suddenly she stopped walking and turned around. Her eyes were filled with disappointment. "What could possess you to do such a thing?" she demanded. "You could have caused serious damage to the school." 

"Serious damage to the dungeons," he muttered. 

"Pardon me?" she asked sharply. 

"Nothing." 

"So, why did you do it?" McGonagall repeated. 

"Er…for fun?" he tried. 

"Is that your answer? You did it for fun? Is that the best you can do, Weasley?" She frowned. "Your parents will be getting an owl about this." She sighed. "Fifty points from Gryffindor. Maybe next time you'll use better judgment when you decide to have some…fun." She frowned at him again and walked away. 

Fred slowly turned around and, dragging his feet, went back to his common room. He spoke the password and the portrait hole swung open. 

George looked up from a large stack of papers. "What happened? McGonagall came in here looking for you. Seemed a bit peeved." 

Fred dropped into a chair. "Y'know how we were talking about testing Choker Smokers?" 

George's eyes lit up in delight. "You tested them?" 

Fred nodded. "On Snape. I put a few of his potions and a Choker Smoker into a cauldron and let it boil," he explained. 

"How much smoke?" George asked eagerly. 

"A lot. Thick black smoke too." Fred smiled. "I've got detention every morning for two weeks, but it was worth it, just to hear Snape screaming down the corridor." He paused. "Oh, yeah, I lost fifty points for us." 

George shrugged. "It's expected of you." He went back to the stack of papers. Then, suddenly, his head shot back up. "I meant to tell you this!" he said excitedly. "I've got this idea for a candy that makes you tongue grow." 

"Yeah?" Fred peered at the papers. 

"Order forms," George said, responding to the puzzled look on his brother's face. "I figure people will buy our joke stuff. I mean, we've just got to bring a lot of it to school then we can sell it. I've got some things in my trunk already." 

"How'd you get past Mum with all that?" Fred questioned. 

George smiled. "Secret compartment. She didn't even think about looking for one." He looked at his watch. "Want to get some dinner?" Fred nodded. "Ron and Harry are up in their dormitory. I'll go get them." George got all the way to the stairs, and then he stopped. "You got a letter. From Angelina." He nodded toward the table. 

Fred picked up the envelope and tore it open. Dear Fred, 

I hope you're well. This might be a bit early, but Happy Christmas anyway. I'm sure you've been going against Oliver's word and haven't practiced Quidditch at all. He'd expect nothing less from you. I'm wishing I hadn't gone home for the holidays. It's quite boring down here without my friends to talk to. Maybe you could send me a letter. It would give me something to do. Well, I suppose I should stop, now that I've sufficiently bored you. See you in a few days, Fred.   
Angelina 

He folded up the letter and stuffed it into his robes. At that moment, George came down the stairs with Harry and Ron trailing behind. Together, they set off toward the Great Hall for dinner. 


	6. Chapter VI

Before anyone knew it, Christmas had come and gone, and classes had started up again. Hermione Granger had mysteriously disappeared, though her closest friends, Ron and Harry, seemed to have a fairly good idea of where she had gone. Most everything was back to normal at Hogwarts: Quidditch practices were five times a week or more, homework was piling up, and Gilderoy Lockhart, professor of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, was being more pompous and overbearing since he had himself convinced he had driven off the culprit of the attacks. 

Fred picked up his books and made his way to his first class, glad Valentine's Day was over. Just the day before, Lockhart had had the whole school decked out in the most hideous, disgusting pink decorations Fred had ever seen. It had been nearly impossible to get to his classes as well, what with all of the Dwarves dressed as Cupids running around. 

That hadn't been quite as bad as his holiday, however. On Christmas morning, Fred had received a Howler from his mother, reprimanding him for what he had done to Snape's classroom. The damage hadn't been bad at all, really. He had wasted perfectly good supplies, yes, but Snape could always replace those. 

"Fred!" 

He turned around. Angelina ran up to him. "How did you know it was me?" 

She shrugged. "Honestly? It was a guess." 

"Or maybe you were just hoping it was me, because you're madly in love with me," Fred said, grinning. 

Angelina laughed, punching his shoulder. "You wish." They entered the classroom. "You know Wood was pretty mad after the last practice when you didn't show up." 

"I had detention!" Fred said. "Didn't you tell him?" She shook her head. He grunted, "Who cares, anyway?" 

"He said he wants to talk to you," she said, taking a seat next to him in back of the room. 

"Great," he said sarcastically. "He'll probably double my practices now." 

Angelina forced a smile. "Probably." 

The class, which was Transfigurations, was fairly easy that day. They took notes throughout the entire period about what they would be doing the next class period, turning guinea fowl into guinea pigs. 

"This is going to be simple!" George said later that month, after their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. "Hardly any homework at all over the weekend. 

"Yeah, that'll give us more time to play Quidditch," said Fred. "Wood's really getting carried away. Every night he has us practicing!" 

"What, you're not enjoying it?" Katie Bell asked sarcastically. She buttered her bread and took a bite. "When are we supposed to be there tonight?" 

"Immediately after dinner," Wood said suddenly, sitting down next to her. 

"Oh, hey, Oliver." Katie laughed nervously, hoping he hadn't heard her last comment. "So…uh…how are you?" 

He raised one eyebrow, looking at her. "I heard you, you know. Don't you like practicing?" 

"It's not that we don't like it, Oliver," Angelina began, "we just don't like it as much as you do." 

"You like it too much," Fred added. 

"Really, it's unhealthy," George said. 

"We've got a big game coming up!" Wood protested. 

"Every game's a big game to you," George commented. 

"It's against Hufflepuff, and I'm not going to lie to you, I think they've gotten better." Wood ate a spoonful of soup. "They're Seeker—Diggory, was it? He's pretty good." 

"But Harry's better," Fred said. 

Harry didn't comment, even to protest, something he often did. 

"Well, I'd like to think Harry's better," Wood went on. "But if you don't concentrate, Potter, he could get the Snitch." 

Harry nodded. "I know. I'll do my best, Oliver." 

Wood smiled. "That's the ticket." He rose from the table. "All right team, let's go. You've all got your brooms, right?" There were several grunts as the Gryffindors raised their brooms so he could see them. "Good." 

Slowly, they got up from the table and followed their captain to the pitch. 

"Harry," Wood began, a quill in his mouth, "what do you do if you see the Hufflepuff Seeker in a full-fledged dive?" 

Harry sighed and answered, "I immediately shoot after him." 

"Because…" Wood helped. 

"Because even if he has seen the Snitch first, there's still a chance I can get it," Harry finished in a monotone. 

"Good!" Oliver stared at his parchment again for a few minutes. "Well, I think we're done here. You can all go back. Remember to get plenty of sleep tonight, because we're practicing early tomorrow." 

Fred unstuck his face from the side of his broom, where it had been plastered for the past four hours. Then he got to his feet and followed the team back to Gryffindor Tower. 

The day had finally come. It had been a long time since their last Quidditch match, but they were all worn out from practicing. Wood had had them out on the field every day for three weeks up until the match. He had told them to get to the pitch a bit early for the current match, though Harry had been a smidgeon late. 

"We're going to win," Wood said, though it was mostly to reassure himself, rather than the whole team. "Everyone ready?" 

"Ready as ever," said George, his hand gripping his Cleansweep Five. 

"Yep." Fred grinned at his twin, then looked to Oliver for further direction. 

"Let's go." Wood led the team out onto the pitch and immediately lifted off the ground to do a few laps around the goal posts to warm up. 

The Gryffindors mounted their brooms, ready to take off, as Madam Hooch released the balls. Suddenly, Professor McGonagall came hurrying onto the field. She pulled out a megaphone and called into it, "The match has been cancelled!" 

Wood flew to the ground and landed rather roughly. "But, Professor! We've got to play—the cup—Gryffindor–" he pleaded, running up to her. 

Unfortunately for him, she ignored him and continued, "All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!" She motioned for Harry to come over to her, lowering the megaphone. "Potter, I think you'd better come with me…" 

Harry gave the team a fleeting glance and followed McGonagall. 

"I was actually looking forward to playing," Fred said honestly. 

Wood was devastated. "What happened now?" he demanded. "What could make her do this to me? I thought she cared about Gryffindor!" 

"She does, Wood," Alicia snapped. "I'm sure Professor McGonagall has a good reason for canceling the match." 

"She'd better," Wood said angrily, dragging his broom behind him as they walked up the hill. 


	7. Chapter VII

The Gryffindor common room was full as students of every year watched Professor McGonagall intently. 

"All students will return to their House common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities." She sighed sadly. "I need hardly add that I have rarely been so distressed. It is likely that the school will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught. I would urge anyone who thinks they might know anything about them to come forward." 

Fred watched the professor leave and turned to Lee, who was talking loudly. 

"Isn't it obvious all this stuff's coming from Slytherin?" he was saying. "The Heir of Slytherin, the monster of Slytherin – why don't they just chuck all the Slytherins out?" 

The crowd around him erupted in cheers. Fred smiled, though he knew Lee was overreacting. 

"I hate to think what's going to happen next," said Angelina suddenly. 

Fred rolled his eyes, but was careful to make sure she didn't see. "Just don't think about it." He saw Ron coming and held a hand out to stop him. "Ron, you all right?" 

Ron shrugged. "Sure." 

Fred thought his brother's tone was very unconvincing. "Where're you off to?" 

Ron thought a moment. "Oh, uh, the owlery…to send Mum a letter." 

"I'm sure she'll find out soon enough," George said, "with Dad working at the Ministry and all." 

"Right, well, see you later." Ron hurried out of the room after Harry. 

"I can't believe Dumbledore's gone," George said sadly a few days later at breakfast. 

Fred stared at his brother, eyes widened in fury. "Dumbledore's the best thing that's ever happened to this school – everyone knows that!" 

"Apparently some don't," said Katie mournfully. 

"Shh!" someone whispered. "Professor McGonagall's going to make an announcement!" 

The professor of Transfiguration stood up, wearing her usual robes of emerald green. She cleared her throat and said, "I have good news." 

Before she could go any further, the Great Hall exploded with chatter. Several people yelled things out, but the only one Fred caught was from Oliver, who was sitting a few seats away from him. Oliver shouted hopefully, "Quidditch matches are back on!" 

McGonagall crossed her arms and waited for the chatter to die down. "Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with our catching the culprit." 

Fred cheered loudly along with nearly everyone else, slamming his fists on the table. "Hey, Ginny," he said when his sister came up to the table and sat down. 

She didn't say anything or even smile, so Fred turned away and focused once again on his breakfast. 

Angelina grinned at him for the first time in several weeks. 

"My, aren't we happy," he said, returning the smile. "And when one of those people wakes up and reveals the Heir, you'll see there was really nothing to worry about, and you were perfectly safe." 

"Fine, you were right. I did worry a bit too much," she admitted. 

"Oh, look, it's King Percy," said George sarcastically as Percy nearly forced Ginny out of her seat, taking it himself. 

Ron, Harry and Percy held a bit of a conversation, Fred noticed, before Percy sputtered, "Well, er, if you must know, Ginny, er, walked in on me the other day when I was – well, never mind – the point is, she spotted me doing something and I, um, I asked her not to mention it to anybody. I must say, I did think she'd keep her word. It's nothing, really, I'd just rather —" 

At that point, Fred looked away and finished his breakfast quickly. He was eager to start his first class – the sooner it started, the sooner it would be over. 

~ 

So the Gryffindors went to their classes as usual that day, though they were all escorted by teachers. They were all grateful to get back to the common room that afternoon – finally they would be away from their professors. What they didn't expect, however, was to find Professor McGonagall waiting there for them. She looked very nervous and kept peering over the heads of the incoming students. 

She caught Fred's eye and beckoned to him, then George – Percy and Ron were already standing beside her. 

"I have received news of a terrible…terrible incident," she said, choking on her own words. "Your sister…Ginny…has been taken into the Chamber of Secrets. Word has been sent to your parents." She took a handkerchief to her nose. "I'm sorry I had to be the one to tell you this." 

Fred stumbled backwards into a chair. He heard Professor McGonagall making some kind of announcement, but was unable to comprehend the words. Ginny…in the Chamber. How did she get in? Why did she go there? She had been acting a bit strangely over the last few days… 

The minutes crawled by, then hours. No one spoke to the Weasleys and none spoke amongst them. Fred couldn't take it any longer. In a sort of trance, he rose from his seat and walked up to his dormitory, collapsing on his bed when he got there. 

Angelina had been right. He should have paid more attention to what had been going on around him. Why hadn't he noticed Ginny's strange attitude before? 

The door opened and George came in. He glanced at Fred saying nothing, then went to the window. After a few minutes, he said quietly, "Ginny." He sighed. "Why did it have to be Ginny?" 

Fred grabbed his pillow and put it over his face. 

"Hi, guys," said a small voice. Angelina. 

Fred removed the pillow and looked at his brother. George was curled up into a ball and was rocking back and forth next to the window. 

Angelina closed the door gently. "I…um, I heard what happened." She stared at the twins sadly. "I'm so sorry." She sat down on George's empty bed. "George," she said quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Are you going to be okay?" 

He uncovered his face. Fred raised his eyebrows, he had never seen his brother cry before, but he had definitely been crying. His face was red and his eyes were puffy, Fred noticed. 

Apparently Angelina had noticed too, because the moment he lifted his head, she threw her arms around him. "Everything'll be fine. Don't worry," she said gently. 

Fred closed the hangings around his four-poster and changed into his pajamas. Then he climbed into bed and attempted to sleep. He heard someone slide the hangings open, and felt a hand on his forehead. When it was removed, the curtains slid shut, and the dormitory door was closed. 

~ 

"Fred!" 

He opened his eyes with great difficulty. Lee Jordan was shaking him. "What is it?" 

"It's a party, mate!" Lee said happily. "He brought her back! Harry brought Ginny back!" 

Fred jumped out of his bed excitedly and joined his classmates in the Great Hall. 

The celebration went on into the morning, and classes continued, of course, with the exception of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. Those had to be canceled, considering Professor Lockhart was in no state to teach. Luckily, final exams were also canceled, because none of the students would have been able to concentrate on them anyway. 

Before long, Fred was saying good-bye to his school chums and boarding the Hogwarts Express. 

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted, disarming George for the third time in a row. 

"Ginny – what did you see Percy doing, that he didn't want you to tell anyone?" Harry asked suddenly, when they were nearly at King's Cross station. 

She laughed. "Oh, that. Well – Percy's got a girlfriend." 

"What?" Fred said, fairly amused, dropping a few books on George's head. 

"Ow!" 

"It's that Ravenclaw prefect, Penelope Clearwater. That's who he was writing to all last summer. He's been meeting her all over the school in secret. I walked in on them kissing in an empty classroom one day. He was so upset when she was – you know – attacked. You won't tease him, will you?" she said quickly. 

A mischievous grin crept upon Fred's face. He suddenly got the feeling his birthday had come especially early. "Wouldn't dream of if." 

George laughed. "Definitely not." 

~ 

"Bye, Harry," Fred said, clapping a hand on his back. "Hermione, see you next year." 

Harry and Hermione smiled and waved at the Weasleys. 

"Hey, Percy," Fred said after a moment. 

"What, Fred?" Percy asked, rather impatiently. 

"How about that Penelope Clearwater, huh? She's cute, isn't she? I'd fancy snogging her in an empty classroom." Percy looked furious, turning bright red, and Fred smiled. It was going to be a good summer. 


End file.
